


The Faded

by scarredsodeep



Category: AFI
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst and Romance, Exes, Humor, I was mad at DXH for 11 years & characters like this are the result, Let's drop out of college and start a band, M/M, Sleazy Davey
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-01-28
Updated: 2015-01-08
Packaged: 2018-03-05 00:03:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 14,208
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3097529
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scarredsodeep/pseuds/scarredsodeep
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Davey asks Adam to rejoin the band, despite their messy history. Between the slimy record execs and the stunning new guitarist, Adam is in over his head from day one. An old Jadam from my rogue's gallery of fic. Originally completed 1/28/2006.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Exiled

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, I know I've butchered the band's history, live with it.

“What do you mean, you want to drop out of school?” my father asked, eyebrows arched and nostrils flared. I was jumping up and down on a very thin sheet of ice, I knew, but something compelled me to continue nonetheless.

He’d never really approved of my music. It was always something he assumed I’d grow out of. He’d known since I was a sophomore in high school that I was going to be an accountant. In the time since I’d been home for Christmas break, he’d managed to sell my Yamaha drum kit. All I had now was the battered one I’d had since sixth grade. If I had been afraid of damaging it and left it at home, it probably would have been sold too. Not that anyone would have bought it; it was painfully over-loved.

I took a deep breath. “Dad… we both know it’s a waste of money for me to keep going,” I said slowly, carefully pulling at the one angle that would appeal to him. “I want, and have always wanted, to be a drummer. I don’t need a degree to do that.”

“You’ve always wanted to be an accountant,” he said dismissively, picking up his newspaper.

“No, Dad,” I said, gritting my teeth and trying to be patient, “ _you’ve_ always wanted me to be an accountant. I hate math.”

“You’re nineteen years old,” he snapped, dismissing me with a wave of his hand. “We are not having this conversation.”

“Dad, listen to me,” I pleaded as he opened his paper with a snap and went back to reading. “I’m _not_ going back. I hate being there, I hate my classes, and I hate wasting your money. Please.”

“Is this about your grades?” he asked boredly, flipping to a new page. “Your grades are fine, Adam. Bs are very good for college, I keep telling you that. You don’t need to be embarrassed about it.”

“Dad!” I yelped, no longer able to fight my growing exasperation. “My grades are not Bs! I am awful at math! I am barely passing my classes. Will you _listen_ to me? You never _listen_ to me!”

“So this is about your grades,” he hummed at me, eyes scanning every minute detail of the stock market but completely looking past me.

“I don’t care about my grades! I never have!” I yelled.

This got his attention. His head snapped up, grey eyes locked into mine like crosshairs over the top of his newspaper. “Excuse me?”

“My band was just offered a record deal,” I said quietly. “We’re getting back together, and we’re accepting. This is our only chance, Dad. I’m dropping out,” I sighed. I hadn’t wanted this discussion to go this way. I’d wanted him to give me permission, maybe even pat my shoulder in a fatherly manner and see the wisdom of my decision. I’d wanted him to forgive me for disappointing him, for keeping him up into the night while I practiced my solos, for coming home at five in the morning reeking of sweat and noise, for not being able to stop my mother from dying. I’d wanted him to be proud of me, to see who I was instead of what I wasn’t.

I’d wanted him to change.

“Get out of my house,” is what he said. His voice was low and deadly and I felt bile rise in my throat.

“W-what?”

“Leave. Pack up your things. If you don’t take it, I’ll sell it. I don’t want you in my house anymore,” he spat.  
My gut turned to lead. “Dad, I-”

“ _SCHOOL_ is not a waste of money!” he yelled, jumping to his feet as his face turned beet red. His hands were white and shaking where they clenched the edges of his paper. “Your fucking _band_ , THAT’S a waste of money! If you are going to disrespect me and everything I’ve done for you, you are going to do it by yourself! When you’re paying your own bills, buying your own goddamned food, paying your own fucking rent, maybe _then_ you’ll realize everything I’ve done for you! Maybe you’ll realize that there’s nothing wrong with being an accountant, that it’s a lot easier to put food on the table when you’re working in a bank than when you’re beating some three thousand dollar set of bongos for a living! I’ve put up with _so much_ from you, Adam, but this- this is just too much!” His voice cracked, and he started to wind down. “It was bad enough when you started dating D-David. When you decided you were _gay_. When your band broke up, when you left for college, I figured things would straighten themselves out. You’d had your little fling, done the young in California extremism- I thought that when you came back, at least you’d sit down and have a beer with your old man, not bring a boy home with you. I thought college would change you- you’d meet a girl, forget about your ridiculous little band and that stupid vinyl album you were all so proud of, and when you came home we’d sit down and watch the fucking _football_ game together… Is that so much to ask? Is that _so much_ for a father to want? All I ever wanted was to be proud of you, Adam. If we don’t want the same thing, if we aren’t working towards the same goal- it doesn’t add up, Adam. We won’t get anywhere if we’re both trying to grow in different directions. This partnership, this situation, will only get more unbearable with every day that we don’t agree on an ideal. I just- Adam. I want you gone by tomorrow morning.”

His voice had worn tired and thin, his angry shaking reduced to the trembling of an old man. Once he’d faded off, I noticed for the first time how grey his hair had gotten, how lined his face… he was old, and tired. His eyes were wet behind his reading glasses, and I knew that he was right. He’d done all that he could for me. Ever since my mother had died, he’d only tried to keep us both happy, only pushed me to make him proud. And I couldn’t do that one simple thing. Maybe it was too hard, maybe he expected too much- maybe I hadn’t tried enough. But a part of him had died with her, and a part of me had never grown to fill its place. It was too late, now, to point fingers and wonder why. Things were ending, now. This would be better for both of us.

“Okay, Dad,” I said quietly, staring hard at the floor. “I- I understand.”

Hands shaking, he folded his newspaper up and said, “If you’re done with school, it’s your choice. I’m not going to tell you what to do. I just want you to know that I’m very disappointed in you… you could have been something, Adam.”

“Maybe I still will be,” I said quietly.

“Maybe,” he sighed heavily, shaking his head. Weary. “I… God, you make me wish your mother was alive. She’d know just what to do. She always did. Adam…” he paused, bit back the tears that always came when he mentioned my mother. “Adam, I’m sorry it had to end like this. I just… I miss her so much…”

I slipped out of the kitchen and down the hall before he noticed I was crying, too.

 

Humbled, I was on the Marchand’s doorstep within the hour. My car, loaded with my tattered kit and a half-empty duffel bag, was quietly rusting at the curb.

Davey’s mother answered the door, eyes squinted against the dim dusk light and old age. “Adam? Is that you?” she asked pleasantly, sounding surprised. “Why, I had no idea you were in town! You’re not on summer break already, are you?”

I smiled, warmth seeping into my stomach. I’d spent most of my high school years at this house, in Davey’s purple room or in their damp, unfinished basement. His mother had always liked me, and his little brother was a lot less annoying than my dad, and a lot better than when my mom was sick. During senior year, Davey and I had dated- during that time, just after my mom died, we hadn’t been allowed to hang out at my house at all. Things with Davey fell apart, though, like I guess all things do, when he met some older guy at a concert. He always said that it meant nothing, that it had been about the music, not the guy, but all I knew was that we’d agreed to wait until after we’d graduated to have sex, and that in the end, he hadn’t waited. Not for me. Later that year, we graduated, didn’t have sex, played a reunion show that was more of a goodbye than anything, and then lost our guitarist in a huge after-show blowout. Davey and I went to different colleges, I had a thing with a guy from Grass Valley and brought him back to Ukiah on Thanksgiving break; Davey and I hadn’t spoken again till he called me about the offer from Nitro.

My smile faded with the sudden onslaught of memories and I told Mrs. Marchand honestly, “I felt like I’d been gone long enough. …Is Davey home?”

She smiled brightly and said, “Yes, he’s decided to take some time off from school as well. I knew that college would never work out for such a devoted poet and musician like Davey, and I think it’s just wonderful that he’s so confident in his own identity. I heard about your record deal, too, and I’m simply overjoyed for you boys… something had to get your old clan back together. I know that David, at least, has been desolate without you. He told me about that reunion concert and what a success it was, but I’d never imagined…”

She trailed off, the possibilities too enormous to be voiced, and Davey’s familiar voice yelled from upstairs, “Who’s here, Ma?”

She merely stepped to the side, and he froze on his way down. For being a skinny kid, he made more noise on a staircase than I had ever heard any other human being make. “Adam,” he exhaled sharply. “I didn’t even know if you’d gotten my message…”

He’d dyed his hair since I’d last seen him, wasn’t the bright blond I remembered anymore. His nails were still painted their signature black, which was slightly comforting, and a new lip ring made his tentative smile glitter. I wasn’t sure if he was still Davey or not, not just from looking.

“I’m dropping out,” I announced, stepping into the foyer and looking up at him. He was still beautiful, jeans and a Misfits t-shirt; that much was familiar. Mrs. Marchand had disappeared, something she’d always been able to do at the opportune moment. It was a skill I greatly admired. “I- I wanna do this, Davey. I think it might happen for us, man. I’m for real on it, all in… this is my future, now. I’m serious on this one. It’s all heart and sweat, I swear.” Heart and sweat, that was an endearment we’d once used. ‘I love you, heart and sweat’. It was weird, but it appealed to Davey’s poetic side, and it was a much more serious, committed promise than most couples exchanged. It really _meant_ something; it wasn’t just words. Well, at least, that’s what I always thought.

He’d reached the bottom of the stairs by now, and hugged me briefly. I could smell his shampoo and my heart broke all over again.

I ruffled my hair awkwardly and said, “I, um, I missed you, Dave. Things… have been real different without you.”

“Yeah,” he agreed softly. “Yeah, I know.”

After a moment of uncomfortable silence, he offered, “You wanna come upstairs? You don’t have anywhere you have to be or anything, right?”

I let myself smile genuinely for the first time in a long time. “Actually, um, I think your house is the only place I’m welcome anymore. My dad… well, um, he doesn’t want me there anymore.”

“That bastard!” Davey said immediately, puffing up like an angry cat. “That fucking dickshit! You can stay here as long as you want- God, I’m sorry- I’ll kill him, that bastard, I really mean it this time-”

I held up my hand, stopping him. “I really appreciate it, Dave, thank you. And hey, don’t worry about it. It was a long time coming. He, um, I guess he hoped college would change something about me. …Maybe I hoped that, too. Maybe the problem is that we’re both just disappointed in me…”

Suddenly, without warning, I burst into tears. Heavy, jarring sobs that ached all the way through my ribs and into my stomach, ripping my heart out with every wave of tears. Davey immediately pulled me tight against his chest, stroking my hair and rubbing my back like he always used to do when I was upset. I slid my own arms around his thin little waist. It was a reflex for both of us.

“I don’t think I could’ve stood it if you’d changed,” he said into my ear. “I like you exactly the same. My soft, sweet Adam. You look so tough, but really you’re so fragile and sad… That’s how I like you. Exactly like you always were.”

“I don’t want to be the same,” I sobbed into his shoulder, hardly aware of what I was saying. “I want to be different, I want to be better. I don’t want to be like I was. Everyone’s changed, and everything. I don’t want to be the same, not anymore. I want to be so much better; I _need_ to be so much better than this…”

“You don’t have to be,” Davey soothed me. “You’re always good enough for me.”

“I wasn’t, though,” I whimpered. “I _wasn’t_ good enough for you. You found someone else, Davey. Why did you do that? If I was so good, then why did you need someone else? I _have_ to be better, Davey, or I’ll just be the same old Adam who was never good enough for anyone…” I started bawling again.

“It wasn’t about you,” Davey said quietly but firmly, giving me the truth for the first time. I quieted down. “It was about him. If I drank, I’d say I’d been drunk. If I smoked, I’d say I’d been high. But the truth is, Adam, it wasn’t any of those things… it was just him. God, I loved you. You know I did. I… if you met him, you’d understand. It wasn’t about either one of us, you or me… just him, Adam. You have to understand.”

I didn’t understand. I didn’t understand it at all. So instead I choked, “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have brought it up.”

“No,” he said slowly, “it’s good that you did. I…um… Addy, he was with me. When, um, when I got the call from Nitro. They had a scout of some sort at our concert, Ad… well, his name is Jeremy. He, um, he was the scout. I owe- we owe- him the entire deal. I… I want you to meet him. We’ve been together for almost eight months now… I’m so sorry, Adam. It was never about you.”

By this point I had wrenched myself from his embrace, skin burning where he’d laid his lying lips on my neck.

“Please, Adam,” he begged. “You have to understand. It’s not the same, Addy. You are, but I’m not… I’m not.”

My skin flushed pink. I’d never been more humiliated in my life. An apologetic smile on his face, Davey tugged my hand. “C’mon,” he said cheerfully. “None of that matters right now. You can sleep in my room, just like old times. I haven’t had a sleepover since high school. We can watch some really tasteless movie. It’ll be fun.”

“I’ll sleep in the basement, thanks,” I snapped reflexively, sounding nastier than I’d intended.

Davey’s face fell. “Adam,” he said, voice breaking. “Please, you can’t _blame_ me for this- I love you so much it hurts-”

“Thank you for letting me stay here,” I interrupted dully. Of course Davey had changed. Of course everyone but me had changed. I felt like I was going to throw up, my stomach squeezed in an acidic fist. He’d said it was a mistake, a celebration of music- and now it was so deliberate, his lie. They were still _together_ , and here he was saying he _loved_ me.

“I’ll schedule a meeting for tomorrow,” he said quietly. “The Nitro guys can get your signature, and you can meet everybody.”

“Fine,” I said flatly.

Davey’s voice cracked and he whispered miserably, “You think it didn’t hurt me? When you brought that blond guy home with you? You think I didn’t _notice_? I ran out and dyed my hair, for Christ’s sake. I felt so… used. Like I was just another one of your goddamn _blondes_.”

“You already had Jeremy then,” I hissed. “Why did it hurt you if you had him?”

“He doesn’t change _anything_ in my heart, Adam. I don’t love him, I love you. I wanted you back. I’ve always wanted you back, ever since the second I lost you. If anyone could have saved me, released me from the cage of Jeremy’s perfection, it would have been you.”  
Rage flared up within me. How could he ask that of me? How could he expect me to take him back?

I wanted to scream.

“No,” I said firmly, “it wouldn’t have been me. We’re over, Davey. We’re _friends_ now. We’re better that way.”

“So that’s it? That’s all I get? ‘We’re done’? ‘Sorry, things are different now’? I _love_ you, Adam. Heart and fucking sweat! Doesn’t that mean ANYTHING to you?” Davey demanded.

“It used to,” I lied, wondering if he could hear the shatters of my heart as they fell down around me. “It used to.”

  
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. All publicly recognizable characters and settings are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No money is being made from this work. No copyright infringement is intended.

This story archived at <http://www.afislash.com/viewstory.php?sid=3345>  



	2. The Exiled

“What do you mean, you want to drop out of school?” my father asked, eyebrows arched and nostrils flared. I was jumping up and down on a very thin sheet of ice, I knew, but something compelled me to continue nonetheless.

He’d never really approved of my music. It was always something he assumed I’d grow out of. He’d known since I was a sophomore in high school that I was going to be an accountant. In the time since I’d been home for Christmas break, he’d managed to sell my Yamaha drum kit. All I had now was the battered one I’d had since sixth grade. If I had been afraid of damaging it and left it at home, it probably would have been sold too. Not that anyone would have bought it; it was painfully over-loved.

I took a deep breath. “Dad… we both know it’s a waste of money for me to keep going,” I said slowly, carefully pulling at the one angle that would appeal to him. “I want, and have always wanted, to be a drummer. I don’t need a degree to do that.”

“You’ve always wanted to be an accountant,” he said dismissively, picking up his newspaper.

“No, Dad,” I said, gritting my teeth and trying to be patient, “ _you’ve_ always wanted me to be an accountant. I hate math.”

“You’re nineteen years old,” he snapped, dismissing me with a wave of his hand. “We are not having this conversation.”

“Dad, listen to me,” I pleaded as he opened his paper with a snap and went back to reading. “I’m _not_ going back. I hate being there, I hate my classes, and I hate wasting your money. Please.”

“Is this about your grades?” he asked boredly, flipping to a new page. “Your grades are fine, Adam. Bs are very good for college, I keep telling you that. You don’t need to be embarrassed about it.”

“Dad!” I yelped, no longer able to fight my growing exasperation. “My grades are not Bs! I am awful at math! I am barely passing my classes. Will you _listen_ to me? You never _listen_ to me!”

“So this is about your grades,” he hummed at me, eyes scanning every minute detail of the stock market but completely looking past me.

“I don’t care about my grades! I never have!” I yelled.

This got his attention. His head snapped up, grey eyes locked into mine like crosshairs over the top of his newspaper. “Excuse me?”

“My band was just offered a record deal,” I said quietly. “We’re getting back together, and we’re accepting. This is our only chance, Dad. I’m dropping out,” I sighed. I hadn’t wanted this discussion to go this way. I’d wanted him to give me permission, maybe even pat my shoulder in a fatherly manner and see the wisdom of my decision. I’d wanted him to forgive me for disappointing him, for keeping him up into the night while I practiced my solos, for coming home at five in the morning reeking of sweat and noise, for not being able to stop my mother from dying. I’d wanted him to be proud of me, to see who I was instead of what I wasn’t.

I’d wanted him to change.

“Get out of my house,” is what he said. His voice was low and deadly and I felt bile rise in my throat.

“W-what?”

“Leave. Pack up your things. If you don’t take it, I’ll sell it. I don’t want you in my house anymore,” he spat.  
My gut turned to lead. “Dad, I-”

“ _SCHOOL_ is not a waste of money!” he yelled, jumping to his feet as his face turned beet red. His hands were white and shaking where they clenched the edges of his paper. “Your fucking _band_ , THAT’S a waste of money! If you are going to disrespect me and everything I’ve done for you, you are going to do it by yourself! When you’re paying your own bills, buying your own goddamned food, paying your own fucking rent, maybe _then_ you’ll realize everything I’ve done for you! Maybe you’ll realize that there’s nothing wrong with being an accountant, that it’s a lot easier to put food on the table when you’re working in a bank than when you’re beating some three thousand dollar set of bongos for a living! I’ve put up with _so much_ from you, Adam, but this- this is just too much!” His voice cracked, and he started to wind down. “It was bad enough when you started dating D-David. When you decided you were _gay_. When your band broke up, when you left for college, I figured things would straighten themselves out. You’d had your little fling, done the young in California extremism- I thought that when you came back, at least you’d sit down and have a beer with your old man, not bring a boy home with you. I thought college would change you- you’d meet a girl, forget about your ridiculous little band and that stupid vinyl album you were all so proud of, and when you came home we’d sit down and watch the fucking _football_ game together… Is that so much to ask? Is that _so much_ for a father to want? All I ever wanted was to be proud of you, Adam. If we don’t want the same thing, if we aren’t working towards the same goal- it doesn’t add up, Adam. We won’t get anywhere if we’re both trying to grow in different directions. This partnership, this situation, will only get more unbearable with every day that we don’t agree on an ideal. I just- Adam. I want you gone by tomorrow morning.”

His voice had worn tired and thin, his angry shaking reduced to the trembling of an old man. Once he’d faded off, I noticed for the first time how grey his hair had gotten, how lined his face… he was old, and tired. His eyes were wet behind his reading glasses, and I knew that he was right. He’d done all that he could for me. Ever since my mother had died, he’d only tried to keep us both happy, only pushed me to make him proud. And I couldn’t do that one simple thing. Maybe it was too hard, maybe he expected too much- maybe I hadn’t tried enough. But a part of him had died with her, and a part of me had never grown to fill its place. It was too late, now, to point fingers and wonder why. Things were ending, now. This would be better for both of us.

“Okay, Dad,” I said quietly, staring hard at the floor. “I- I understand.”

Hands shaking, he folded his newspaper up and said, “If you’re done with school, it’s your choice. I’m not going to tell you what to do. I just want you to know that I’m very disappointed in you… you could have been something, Adam.”

“Maybe I still will be,” I said quietly.

“Maybe,” he sighed heavily, shaking his head. Weary. “I… God, you make me wish your mother was alive. She’d know just what to do. She always did. Adam…” he paused, bit back the tears that always came when he mentioned my mother. “Adam, I’m sorry it had to end like this. I just… I miss her so much…”

I slipped out of the kitchen and down the hall before he noticed I was crying, too.

 

Humbled, I was on the Marchand’s doorstep within the hour. My car, loaded with my tattered kit and a half-empty duffel bag, was quietly rusting at the curb.

Davey’s mother answered the door, eyes squinted against the dim dusk light and old age. “Adam? Is that you?” she asked pleasantly, sounding surprised. “Why, I had no idea you were in town! You’re not on summer break already, are you?”

I smiled, warmth seeping into my stomach. I’d spent most of my high school years at this house, in Davey’s purple room or in their damp, unfinished basement. His mother had always liked me, and his little brother was a lot less annoying than my dad, and a lot better than when my mom was sick. During senior year, Davey and I had dated- during that time, just after my mom died, we hadn’t been allowed to hang out at my house at all. Things with Davey fell apart, though, like I guess all things do, when he met some older guy at a concert. He always said that it meant nothing, that it had been about the music, not the guy, but all I knew was that we’d agreed to wait until after we’d graduated to have sex, and that in the end, he hadn’t waited. Not for me. Later that year, we graduated, didn’t have sex, played a reunion show that was more of a goodbye than anything, and then lost our guitarist in a huge after-show blowout. Davey and I went to different colleges, I had a thing with a guy from Grass Valley and brought him back to Ukiah on Thanksgiving break; Davey and I hadn’t spoken again till he called me about the offer from Nitro.

My smile faded with the sudden onslaught of memories and I told Mrs. Marchand honestly, “I felt like I’d been gone long enough. …Is Davey home?”

She smiled brightly and said, “Yes, he’s decided to take some time off from school as well. I knew that college would never work out for such a devoted poet and musician like Davey, and I think it’s just wonderful that he’s so confident in his own identity. I heard about your record deal, too, and I’m simply overjoyed for you boys… something had to get your old clan back together. I know that David, at least, has been desolate without you. He told me about that reunion concert and what a success it was, but I’d never imagined…”

She trailed off, the possibilities too enormous to be voiced, and Davey’s familiar voice yelled from upstairs, “Who’s here, Ma?”

She merely stepped to the side, and he froze on his way down. For being a skinny kid, he made more noise on a staircase than I had ever heard any other human being make. “Adam,” he exhaled sharply. “I didn’t even know if you’d gotten my message…”

He’d dyed his hair since I’d last seen him, wasn’t the bright blond I remembered anymore. His nails were still painted their signature black, which was slightly comforting, and a new lip ring made his tentative smile glitter. I wasn’t sure if he was still Davey or not, not just from looking.

“I’m dropping out,” I announced, stepping into the foyer and looking up at him. He was still beautiful, jeans and a Misfits t-shirt; that much was familiar. Mrs. Marchand had disappeared, something she’d always been able to do at the opportune moment. It was a skill I greatly admired. “I- I wanna do this, Davey. I think it might happen for us, man. I’m for real on it, all in… this is my future, now. I’m serious on this one. It’s all heart and sweat, I swear.” Heart and sweat, that was an endearment we’d once used. ‘I love you, heart and sweat’. It was weird, but it appealed to Davey’s poetic side, and it was a much more serious, committed promise than most couples exchanged. It really _meant_ something; it wasn’t just words. Well, at least, that’s what I always thought.

He’d reached the bottom of the stairs by now, and hugged me briefly. I could smell his shampoo and my heart broke all over again.

I ruffled my hair awkwardly and said, “I, um, I missed you, Dave. Things… have been real different without you.”

“Yeah,” he agreed softly. “Yeah, I know.”

After a moment of uncomfortable silence, he offered, “You wanna come upstairs? You don’t have anywhere you have to be or anything, right?”

I let myself smile genuinely for the first time in a long time. “Actually, um, I think your house is the only place I’m welcome anymore. My dad… well, um, he doesn’t want me there anymore.”

“That bastard!” Davey said immediately, puffing up like an angry cat. “That fucking dickshit! You can stay here as long as you want- God, I’m sorry- I’ll kill him, that bastard, I really mean it this time-”

I held up my hand, stopping him. “I really appreciate it, Dave, thank you. And hey, don’t worry about it. It was a long time coming. He, um, I guess he hoped college would change something about me. …Maybe I hoped that, too. Maybe the problem is that we’re both just disappointed in me…”

Suddenly, without warning, I burst into tears. Heavy, jarring sobs that ached all the way through my ribs and into my stomach, ripping my heart out with every wave of tears. Davey immediately pulled me tight against his chest, stroking my hair and rubbing my back like he always used to do when I was upset. I slid my own arms around his thin little waist. It was a reflex for both of us.

“I don’t think I could’ve stood it if you’d changed,” he said into my ear. “I like you exactly the same. My soft, sweet Adam. You look so tough, but really you’re so fragile and sad… That’s how I like you. Exactly like you always were.”

“I don’t want to be the same,” I sobbed into his shoulder, hardly aware of what I was saying. “I want to be different, I want to be better. I don’t want to be like I was. Everyone’s changed, and everything. I don’t want to be the same, not anymore. I want to be so much better; I _need_ to be so much better than this…”

“You don’t have to be,” Davey soothed me. “You’re always good enough for me.”

“I wasn’t, though,” I whimpered. “I _wasn’t_ good enough for you. You found someone else, Davey. Why did you do that? If I was so good, then why did you need someone else? I _have_ to be better, Davey, or I’ll just be the same old Adam who was never good enough for anyone…” I started bawling again.

“It wasn’t about you,” Davey said quietly but firmly, giving me the truth for the first time. I quieted down. “It was about him. If I drank, I’d say I’d been drunk. If I smoked, I’d say I’d been high. But the truth is, Adam, it wasn’t any of those things… it was just him. God, I loved you. You know I did. I… if you met him, you’d understand. It wasn’t about either one of us, you or me… just him, Adam. You have to understand.”

I didn’t understand. I didn’t understand it at all. So instead I choked, “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have brought it up.”

“No,” he said slowly, “it’s good that you did. I…um… Addy, he was with me. When, um, when I got the call from Nitro. They had a scout of some sort at our concert, Ad… well, his name is Jeremy. He, um, he was the scout. I owe- we owe- him the entire deal. I… I want you to meet him. We’ve been together for almost eight months now… I’m so sorry, Adam. It was never about you.”

By this point I had wrenched myself from his embrace, skin burning where he’d laid his lying lips on my neck.

“Please, Adam,” he begged. “You have to understand. It’s not the same, Addy. You are, but I’m not… I’m not.”

My skin flushed pink. I’d never been more humiliated in my life. An apologetic smile on his face, Davey tugged my hand. “C’mon,” he said cheerfully. “None of that matters right now. You can sleep in my room, just like old times. I haven’t had a sleepover since high school. We can watch some really tasteless movie. It’ll be fun.”

“I’ll sleep in the basement, thanks,” I snapped reflexively, sounding nastier than I’d intended.

Davey’s face fell. “Adam,” he said, voice breaking. “Please, you can’t _blame_ me for this- I love you so much it hurts-”

“Thank you for letting me stay here,” I interrupted dully. Of course Davey had changed. Of course everyone but me had changed. I felt like I was going to throw up, my stomach squeezed in an acidic fist. He’d said it was a mistake, a celebration of music- and now it was so deliberate, his lie. They were still _together_ , and here he was saying he _loved_ me.

“I’ll schedule a meeting for tomorrow,” he said quietly. “The Nitro guys can get your signature, and you can meet everybody.”

“Fine,” I said flatly.

Davey’s voice cracked and he whispered miserably, “You think it didn’t hurt me? When you brought that blond guy home with you? You think I didn’t _notice_? I ran out and dyed my hair, for Christ’s sake. I felt so… used. Like I was just another one of your goddamn _blondes_.”

“You already had Jeremy then,” I hissed. “Why did it hurt you if you had him?”

“He doesn’t change _anything_ in my heart, Adam. I don’t love him, I love you. I wanted you back. I’ve always wanted you back, ever since the second I lost you. If anyone could have saved me, released me from the cage of Jeremy’s perfection, it would have been you.”  
Rage flared up within me. How could he ask that of me? How could he expect me to take him back?

I wanted to scream.

“No,” I said firmly, “it wouldn’t have been me. We’re over, Davey. We’re _friends_ now. We’re better that way.”

“So that’s it? That’s all I get? ‘We’re done’? ‘Sorry, things are different now’? I _love_ you, Adam. Heart and fucking sweat! Doesn’t that mean ANYTHING to you?” Davey demanded.

“It used to,” I lied, wondering if he could hear the shatters of my heart as they fell down around me. “It used to.”

  
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. All publicly recognizable characters and settings are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No money is being made from this work. No copyright infringement is intended.

This story archived at <http://www.afislash.com/viewstory.php?sid=3345>  



	3. The Perfected

“Reservation Kregse, party of five,” Davey chirped. Jade and I were gaping around. I hadn’t been to a place where you needed a reservation in years. This was a spectacularly nice place. Standing under the massive quivering chandelier, I considered buttoning up my shirt again.

I decided against it only because I knew how much it would annoy Davey if I didn’t.

“Wait, did you say Kregse?” I asked Davey. “As in Geoff? As in our bassist? He can’t _possibly_ be paying for this.”

“God no,” Davey giggled. “Jeremy is.”

I immediately lost my appetite. “You look like you’re gonna puke,” Jade said into my ear as we followed the scowling host deep into the heart of the restaurant. “You really don’t like him either, huh?”

“Never met him,” I murmured back. “I just- a long time ago, Davey… he had a thing with Jeremy. Um. While we were together. So. I’m a little apprehensive. Why, uh, why don’t _you_ like him?”

Jade wrinkled his nose. “Well. I don’t want you to pre-judge him because of me. But… I’m just going to say this one little thing. He’s… he’s _greasy_.”

I let out a sharp laugh. People in cocktail dresses and ties set down their forks to glare at me. “Greasy?” I snorted, lowering my voice.

Jade grinned. “He’s just that kind of guy… I mean, you _know_ he’s a two-faced jerk and you’re really just waiting for him to expose himself, you know? Slimy little bastard.”

I nodded. “Is he… as hot as Davey thinks he is?”

It was Jade’s turn to snort. “Davey thinks he’s _hot_?”

“I mistook you for him, didn’t I?” I laughed, unable to keep myself from flirting with Jade. It was slightly less mortifying once I knew he wasn’t sleeping with my ex, but I still felt like an idiot. With good reason; I stopped my next sentence a syllable and a half too late. “Would never have happened if Dave hadn’t made him out to be so beau—”

Jade was tactful enough to pretend not to notice me calling him beautiful, snorting and saying, “Dear Lord. I meant ‘greasy’ _literally_. He’s… oh, ew.”

Jade shuddered and I tried to muffle my freshest outburst of laughter. Davey was thankfully still struggling to make conversation with the pissy host and failing miserably and didn’t notice our misbehavior.

When we reached our silver-and-porcelain-laden table, I had to fight not to laugh all over again. Greasy was, perhaps, not the right word. Jeremy had stringy blond hair, limp unwashed-looking curls that hung pathetically to his chin, a hooked nose, and extremely thin lips. His tan was orange and his smile was bleached so bright it hurt to look at. He was in a black suit with a maroon shirt, which made his greenish eyes look small and watery. His left earlobe bore the tackiest diamond stud I’d ever seen. Better yet, a thin gold chain hung around his neck and he had his class ring, an enormous blond monstrosity, on his ring finger. He was a good seven years older than we were, I judged by the date on the cripplingly stylish ring.

He had the appearance of the sort of guy who was once credited as ‘Hot Dog Vendor #3’ and, ever since then, has thought that he is a movie star. He looked like a radio personality. He looked like an uncomfortable weasel.

I had to assume that in the dim haze of a concert he looked better. I had to assume that in the time that had passed since Davey had chosen him over me, he’d let himself go.

I had to assume that Davey was on crack. My ego would not allow anything less.

Jeremy stood, arms spread wide, smile slimy and fake. “Sweetheart!” he cooed, reached for Davey. “And my buddy Jade! How’s it hangin’, Jadester?”

He sounded like he was talking to a fourth grader. Jade sent back a smile just as sticky, this one with poison, and stepped out of the path of the friendly punch Jeremy attempted to drive into his shoulder. “Like Jesus,” he said shortly, pretending to be friendly.

Jeremy’s smile only faltered for a moment before he turned up his sleaze as high as it went and turned to me. “Now who’s this fellow?”

“Adam,” Jade said monotonously.

“How delightful! I’ll be damned if you’re not exactly like my sweetkins said you were,” Jeremy oozed, pulling Davey’s shoulder into his side.

I nodded, forcing a smile onto my face. It took all my strength of will not to either burst out laughing, puke, or punch him in his sleazy face.

“I’ve heard the most wonderful things about you, Jeremy,” I lied easily, although I could see by the vague register of dislike in his eyes that he could hear the sweetened venom my greeting entailed. I reached out my hand, and he looked scared for a moment. I was at least two inches taller than he was, and could probably snap his thin, elongated neck with one hand. His orange chest was about half as broad as mine. Realizing this, I straightened myself up a bit higher, and prepared to crush the hell out of his oily little hand. When he finally took the proffered hand, he squeezed it briefly and dropped it like it had burned him.

It was the lamest handshake I had ever experienced. His sallow hands were unnaturally soft; I snorted to myself as I realized he probably moisturized them. I flexed my own, much larger hands, grimly proud of the calluses that creased my palms and my torn fingernails.

I sat down next to Geoff, who was sitting to Jeremy’s left snickering at the look on my face. “Missed you too,” I muttered to him.

“Can you _believe_ this guy?” he said into my ear as Jeremy fawned over Davey, exclaiming over how lovely his outfit was tonight and was that a new belt what had he done to his eyes they were simply breathtaking he was afraid of getting sucked in they were so big and deep. Everything was so _fake_ , so… wrong. He wasn’t _right_.

Jade sat down across from me, kicking me under the rectangular table that Jeremy was at the head of. Judging by what I’d seen of his personality, it was only fitting. “I have to sit _next_ to them,” he hissed to me.

“I have to look at them,” I hissed back.

Jeremy was by this point explaining nastily to the waiter that Davey could only drink bottled water because tap water could jeopardize his voice. A few moments earlier, I had disliked the snobby waiter who had glared at me, but now I felt a serious pang of sympathy for how shitty his job was. I got to do what I loved for money; he had to deal with rich vermin and be _nice_ about it if he wanted a tip.

Davey started insisting that the regular water was fine and I silently cheered for the waiter, who had twisted his face into an obvious grimace that suggested he was going to gut Jeremy with a salad fork.

“The service here is so _rude_ ,” Jeremy said loudly as the waiter slunk away. “No tip for _that_ bastard, that’s for sure,” he added, chuckling. We all knew that the waiter had heard, and an awkward silence fell until Jeremy scooped up Davey’s hand and announced, “Well, I won’t let that dick ruin our lunch. This is a celebration, after all! When he drags his lazy ass back here, I’m going to order a bottle of champagne for the table!”

Jeremy didn’t seem capable of uttering a single sentence containing an unnecessary explicative at a reasonable volume. I was tempted to tell him to use his inside voice, terms I wasn’t entirely sure his mind could grasp. No matter how loud he was speaking, I was all but convinced he was dumb as a rock and vile as what lived beneath it.

“I don’t drink,” Davey and Jade pointed out at the exact same moment.

Jeremy eyed them as though they’d suddenly turned into a pair of Venus flytraps. I found myself taken aback. How had he not known that about Davey after eight months? Davey was a walking sermon against the use of drugs, alcohol, and animal products. I could have ordered for him after an afternoon of friendship; however, throughout the course of their love affair, Jeremy hadn’t bothered to learn his boyfriend’s basic morals.  
Geoff muttered quietly to Jade, “What took you guys so long? Dickface’s been telling me about his new golf clubs for the last forty-five minutes.”

“You could have come to the meeting, instead,” Jade suggested. “You could have chosen Maxamin over Tiger Woods.”

I felt the muscles in my jaw begin to relax. Maybe, just maybe, both Jeremy and I could survive this meal.

 

“No, really, I don’t mind walking,” I insisted for the millionth time. “There’s, um, a record store I want to check out. It’s easier if you don’t drive me.”

Jeremy looked put off. He was standing next to a glittering Mercedes and clearly wanted to show off its abilities.

“Oh, the new one? On Ashbury?” Jade jumped in eagerly. I knew for a fact, thanks to many long, wandering drives, that there was no such street as Ashbury in Ukiah.

“That one,” I agreed.

“I’ve been meaning to get over there ever since they opened! Mind if I…?”

“Not at all,” I said graciously, grinning in spite of myself.

“If you’re sure,” Jeremy said, snaking his arm around Davey’s waist and kissing the side of his head.

“We’re sure,” Jade said hurriedly, grabbing my forearm and anchoring himself to me. Geoff threw us a look of hate as he slid into the backseat. He lived on the same street as Jeremy, and no amount of fast talking could get him out of accepting Jeremy’s charity.

“We could just go back to my place,” Jeremy murmured to Davey, nuzzling his neck.

“I promised my mother I’d-” Davey started.

“We haven’t made love in a week,” Jeremy said throatily, tongue darting into Davey’s ear. I gagged and Davey pushed Jeremy off him, blushing.

“Don’t,” he giggled. “Not in front of my _friends_.”

“If they’re your friends they won’t mind,” Jeremy hummed, hands sliding dangerously near Davey’s ass. “I can’t help it if I want you.”

Jade tugged on my arm, looking rather nauseous himself. “Well, we’d better be on our way!” he said brightly, much louder than was necessary, as he started walking backwards so quickly we were almost jogging. “Thanks for lunch, Jer!” he called as we turned and broke into a flat-out run. Jeremy was too busy feeling up Davey to really notice.

“God, that was close,” Jade laughed when we finally slowed down to catch our breath. “Jeremy thinks that if they’re in front of ‘friends’, it’s the same thing as being alone and behind several miles of locked doors. It’s the most disgusting thing I’ve ever seen. The second I convince someone romantically associate with me—yes, believe it or not, even a god such as myself sometimes has difficulty getting a date—I swear to God I’m going to pay them back as graphically as I possibly can. One time—” and a spasm of disgust and laughter crippled him for a moment— “one time, in _front_ of us, he totally leaned over to Davey and whispered something about his cock.”

“He did _not_!” I laughed, finally feeling the hate melt away into something not entirely unlike relief.

“He did so,” Jade insisted, shuddering. “My jaw hit the ground. Geoff stood up immediately and mumbled something about a cat and bolted for the door. He left me alone with them, in Jeremy’s apartment of all places, that bastard…”

Still chuckling, he grabbed my hand and squeezed it for no apparent reason. I found myself disappointed when he let it go again. “If you don’t mind me asking, what kind of reason could Davey _possibly_ have for letting you go? Do you snore really loud or something? I’ve always wondered if that’s why my relationships are always so short lived. It’s either the sex or gingivitis or something, because they just _run_ the first chance they get… and I really don’t think it’s the sex…”

“He didn’t let me go,” I admitted, grinning. “I had to wrench myself free. He was my best friend and then, sort of out of nowhere, he was a lot more… and then he slept with Jeremy after some stupid concert. He told me the next morning, crying about how he loved me and I couldn’t leave him… but I did anyway. I don’t know why he did it, I always assumed Jeremy was really great-looking or something… that’s why I thought you were Jeremy at first, you-”

I turned bright red and stopped talking the second I realized what I’d just said. Jade, however, was still preoccupied with sex, and didn’t seem to notice. “Maybe he’s really incredible in bed,” Jade said disbelievingly. “From where I’m standing, our pal Dave has made a terrible mistake.”

I felt a fresh wave of heat crawl up my neck and couldn’t smother my smile for another second. “You’re making my ears blush,” I mumbled, laughing at myself, barely aware of what I was saying. “ _You’re_ the god, remember?”

“I am only a god of my trades,” Jade confessed, “and my trades are admittedly few. You, on the other hand, could pass as an Olympian…”

“Trades, hmm?” I smiled, raising my eyebrows. This was how I generally accepted compliments and come-ons alike, pretending they hadn’t happened because I was a resolute believer that things like love and beauty didn’t apply to me. “Anything I’d be interested it?”

“Well, there _is_ the sex,” Jade laughed. “Other than that, it’s just music-writing, sex, guitar-playing, and sex. Oh, and I’m wicked good at sociology. I have an utterly worthless degree in it.”

“You seem pretty versatile,” I observed. “Although you may have forgotten to mention sex.”

“Ah, right, that. I’m pretty amazing at sex, too.” Jade paused. “So how’s our tension level doing? Have we hit awkward yet?”

I laughed. Everything with Jade was so light and easy, so comfortable and open and relaxed. He was smart, funny, believable… and most of all, beautiful. A combination of those elements compelled me to say what I said next: “No, but we’re about to… I’ve been wondering all afternoon. Are you as flaming as you come off?”

“No, I act that way because it helps me pick up girls,” Jade said sarcastically. “I don’t think Davey would have let me join the band if I’d been straight… I might’ve turned out like Geoff, or something equally cataclysmic. I’m surprised you couldn’t tell. Is your gaydar broken, or do I come off confused?” he added, his last question surprisingly serious.

“I’m never very good at those sorts of things,” I admitted. “I was one hundred percent convinced you were gay till Davey teased you about not having a girlfriend.”

“That minx probably wants you to think I’m straight,” Jade said, voice high and bitchy as Davey’s at his worst. Anyone who could mock Davey so precisely instantly earned my respect. It had taken me years to get that voice down, and Jade was a natural. “And _that’s_ why he didn’t tell me what how gorgeous you are. He knew I’d fall for Mr. Tall-Dark-and-Handsome, and he wants you all to himself.”

Jade had dropped the falsetto and sounded so serious I felt goose bumps rise on the back of my neck. ‘Gorgeous’ was a word generally reserved for men like Brad Pitt and Jade, and I was not one of those.

“Why would he want me? He’s got Jeremy,” I said dully, trying to recall the details of our fight last night. It made sense. I knew he still wanted me, he wasn’t catty enough to lie about that- but why? Why would anyone want me? “He told me, last night, that… he still loved me, but I- what do you mean, he knew you’d fall for me?”

Jade blushed purple. “I’m very predictable,” he said guiltily, sounding embarrassed. “Eighty-five percent of the guys I’ve been with are tall, broad, and in bands. The other fifteen percent, if not as cute as you, have been underwear models. But, um, the moral of the story is, you’re right up my alley.”

I laughed again, and the mood almost lightened when Jade added in a low voice, “You- you don’t still have feelings for him, do you? I wouldn’t want you to break my heart.”

“God no,” I snorted, dismissing the second part of his comment. It came dangerously close to the compliment/come-on category. “He’s so manipulative, he’ll use you as soon as look at you… God, he’s my best friend, he’s always been, and I think I actually might hate him.”

“I know I wouldn’t still be on speaking terms with him,” Jade said softly.

I shrugged. “Well, it’s mostly the band. And this… this way he has… oh, and I’m living with him. I’m sort of obligated to talk to him.”

Jade laughed humorlessly. “How long have you been living there?” he asked.

“Just since last night, actually. I sort of reached an agreement with my dad about how I’m not welcome in his house anymore and I had nowhere else to go.” For having met him a few hours ago, I seemed to be sharing a lot of very personal things with Jade. I couldn’t help it- he seemed like the sort of guy you could trust. I was also falling for him fast and hard, which may or may not have loosened my tongue.

Jade’s eyes lit up. “Well, I know how to fix all of our problems in one fell swoop.”

“What are our problems again?” I asked, eyebrows raised.  
Jade did not hesitate. “One: we’re wandering aimlessly alongside a highway, well on our way to a record store that does not exist, and badly need a mission. Two: you are entirely dependant on an ex that wants you back and you are still in the process of developing feelings on this. You need the time and space to work it out on your own, without him hovering over you 24/7. Three: my apartment scares me at night because I don’t have any blinds in my living room and bad things could look in and possibly crawl through the unshielded windows. Four: we are devilishly good-looking young men who are in a band, and therefore are obligated to occupy a raging bachelor pad. Five: I kill plants because I don’t have anyone to remind me to water them and sometimes they just die anyway because they don’t like me and they might not feel the need to spite me and commit suicide if they had friends. Six: I need someone to jam with. Seven: my little brother is coming to visit me in a few days and I lied and said I had a really cool roommate so he wouldn’t find out how lame I am, but I don’t, because I am not as rad as most people think I am,” he rattled off. I was laughing again by the time he was done.

“I think I may know what your solution is,” I told him.

Jade grinned. “And? What do you think?”

“I think that we should embark on a quest to Dave’s house where I can get my things and my car, and then go buy curtains for your living room so the bad things don’t get me while I’m sleeping on your couch like the bum that I am.”

Jade threw his arms around my neck and jumped onto my back. I stumbled a few steps but quickly adjusted to his weight. He didn’t weigh nearly what a grown man should; he was probably about six feet tall, and he was lighter to carry than petite little Davey. “Yes, except that my plan included that you should carry me,” he said.

I grunted, trying to pretend that I wasn’t laughing uncontrollably. “Any other areas in which our solutions differ?”

“Well, in mine, if you play your cards right, you won’t have to sleep on the couch,” he laughed happily. I admired his ability to shamelessly flirt and allowed myself, for a moment, to enjoy the feel of his body pressed against mine, warm and solid and alive.

“I like you, Adam,” he announced, nestling his chin into my shoulder. “I was worried, the way Davey talked about you, that you’d be some stuck-up diva. I didn’t think that there was any way in hell Davey’d like you so much if you were halfway decent, not after the rampage of taste he’s shown with Jeremy. I never even began to suspect that you might be a good guy.”

“Am I?” I asked. “A good guy, I mean?”

“You’re too good,” Jade informed me, “to be true.”

  
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. All publicly recognizable characters and settings are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No money is being made from this work. No copyright infringement is intended.

This story archived at <http://www.afislash.com/viewstory.php?sid=3345>  



	4. The Broken

I woke up of my own accord at 9. I hadn’t gotten up that early without an alarm since I was about seven years old. I crept to the door of Jade’s room; he was sound asleep, hugging his pillow to his chest, blankets at the foot of the bed in a heap. I lingered there for a moment longer than I should have, fighting the urge to tuck him in, before meandering into the kitchen. I was afraid that if I showered, the noise would wake him; I wanted to make him breakfast, express gratitude, but I didn’t know what he liked or, really, how to cook anything other than macaroni and cheese from a box.

I had pulled a tattered textbook out from under the coffee table and was flipping through, laughing at Jade’s comments, notes, and doodles when he appeared in the living room yawning.

“Your hair is standing up in the back,” I said instead of good morning, suddenly feeling invasive and slamming the textbook shut.

Jade grinned, patting it down futilely. “’Morning, sunshine,” he said groggily, reaching forward and raking his long fingers through my curly brown hair, sending ice down my spine. “There,” he yawned, smiling, “now your perfect hair’s messy too.”

I smiled, something pulling in my chest. This was horribly comfortable. I felt like I had known Jade forever; an overwhelming surge of affection swept me. I knew how dangerous this was- I had the bad habit of falling in love with every man who was kind to me.

I swallowed harder than was necessary. “You look good without a shirt on,” Jade chirped, grinning devilishly.

My face caught fire. “I have got to start wearing pajamas,” I said under my breath.

Jade squinted at me, trying to catch my low words. “Do you get that a lot? I bet you do. I bet men with sticking-up hair are forever telling you how good you look without clothing in its various states.”

I grinned shyly. “You’re not exactly original,” I admitted. “Our friend David said the same thing to me yesterday morning.”

“That minx!” laughed Jade. “Encroaching on my territory. The nerve of him, honestly.”

He was joking by now, but I didn’t let his remark slip. “Your territory?” I asked, eyebrows raised.

“I already told you, you’re very much my type… it’s a wonder I’ve managed to keep my hands off you this long. He knew from the moment you agreed to sign with us that we would inevitably meet and he’d be stuck with Jeremy forever,” Jade decreed playfully.

I sighed, my cheeks heating and stomach squeezing giddily at his comments. Before I could stop it, the wistful thought, “I wish you weren’t only kidding,” had slid out of my mouth.

Jade looked surprised. “What, about Davey and Jeremy? Of course I’m not kidding. I won’t let you take Davey back. No, he’s doomed.”

He had offered me a convenient cover for my slip but suddenly, I wasn’t interested in hiding. Lying had only got me so far in life, and I decided that I was done with it. It was time I went out and got what I wanted.

“Oh, I didn’t mean that part,” I said innocently, and Jade’s face registered shock. This was the first time his near-constant advances had been met. Before he had the chance to register what I’d said, I crossed the room to the bathroom. “If you need me, I’ll be in the shower.”

I wasn’t sure if I imagined it or not, and I certainly didn’t turn back to check, but I could have sword I heard Jade mutter behind me, “Need you? Do I ever.”

 

I’d been out of the shower six seconds when the door burst open.

“Davey!” I yelped, nearly dropping the towel I’d slung around my hips milliseconds earlier.

Haggard and shrieking at me incomprehensibly, it was indeed some incarnation of Davey who stood before me. His hair was crazily tangled, split ends flying, and his eyeliner was smeared badly, darkening the large purple circles under his eyes. He was wearing the Def Leppard shirt of yesterday, but inside out; he had on jeans that were too big and too ugly for him to ever wear. A pang in my gut told me that they were Jeremy’s.

His yelling stopped abruptly- he’d run out of breath. He inhaled enormously and, without any warning, burst into tears and flung his arms around me, pressing himself into my dripping chest.

I did not return the hug.

“Davey, get the hell off of me and either tell me what you’re doing here or get out,” I growled.

“I tried to stop him,” Jade offered, sticking his head in the doorway, looking sympathetic and, although it might have been my imagination, staring a bit more intensely that was necessary.

I pushed Davey off me and Jade mouthed teasingly, “You’re glistening.”

I flipped him off as discreetly as I could. “After you,” he whispered, withdrawing himself from the doorway.

Davey’s sobs had abated to hiccups. Eyes wide and frightened, he looked up at me and said in a wounded voice, “Adam, I was so worried about you.”

“Why’s that?” I sighed, trying to keep the bite out of my voice. Clearly, today was not the sort of day in which I could expect to at least have pants on while sorting out the emotional traumas of my peers.

“Well, you disappeared!” he said incredulously. “I had just finished having a fight with Jeremy- he doesn’t think you ought to live with me but you’re m best friend and you needed somewhere to stay and I obviously wasn’t going to turn you away just because he’s insecure and then he yelled and I yelled and he took me home in a huff and then- and then you weren’t there,” he whimpered, running out of air and into tears again. “I was out all night,” he cried, “running around town and calling everyone I knew, looking for you. I thought something awful must have happened. I never even thought to look here…”

His voice had taken on an accusatory edge. Then he opened his eyes and looked up at me. “You can come home now, though,” he said clearly. “I figured that you must have left because of the, um, that sort of fight we kind of had… but it’s okay, I thought about it and I’m willing to forgive you, so-”

“Forgive me?” I repeated numbly. I knew my voice was too loud, louder than it ought to be, but I couldn’t help it. “Let me get this straight. I should come back because you FORGIVE me?”

Looking slightly frightened, Davey nodded. Just as quickly as it had built, my temper fell, and my voice went with it. My tone was now low and resigned. “No, Davey. This-” and spite crept into my mind, tingeing my words- “this isn’t about you. This is about me. I didn’t leave Ukiah for a year to come back and do exactly the same thing I’ve always done… I left to change. It’s not too late to do that.”

“This is about him, isn’t it,” Davey said quietly, flatly, staring hard at the ground. “About Jade.” He bit his lip. “Goddamnit. I knew it, I knew it. I knew I’d lose you once you met him… Fuck.”

A smile pulled at the corner of my mouth. “You’re not losing me, Davey. I’m not going anywhere. I’m still the same old Adam.”

“You’re not MY Adam anymore,” he whispered, still not meeting my eyes. “You’re not the same. You’re different, you did change, you’re already changed! You just haven’t realized it yet and all you’re doing is hurting us both…”

The subdued anger wound up in his voice stung. I fought the urge to reach for him and implored softly, “Davey, look at me. Please? Will you just look at me? Listen. You haven’t lost anything… anything real.” I swallowed hard as he finally met my eyes. “All you’ve lost is something you only ever thought you had.”

“Good-bye, Adam,” he said sharply, spinning on his heel and storming away.

  
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. All publicly recognizable characters and settings are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No money is being made from this work. No copyright infringement is intended.

This story archived at <http://www.afislash.com/viewstory.php?sid=3345>  



	5. The Mourning

Jade appeared in the doorway a few moments after Davey slammed out of his apartment. “Um,” he said awkwardly, afraid to meet my eyes. “He, um.”

We were silent, eyes cast away from each other, for a minute or so before Jade suddenly said, voice low and fast, “Thank you.” He propelled himself into my arms and I was surprised how natural it seemed. We melted together till I wasn’t sure who’d even initiated it.

“Thank you so much,” he breathed, and I suddenly became overly conscious of my body and how little was covering it. I felt his breath on my neck and my arms tightened of their own accord. I wanted, more than anything, to feel his lips on me. I wanted to run his skin beneath my fingers, wanted to be wearing even less, wanted to lift his shirt up over his head and press his pale body against mine.

Instead I let go, blushing fiercely.

Jade, however, kept his face pressed into my neck. “I’m so sorry,” he was mumbling. “I never should have brought you here, I knew he’d do this.”

Against my better judgment, I slid my fingers down his back, wrapping my other arm around his slim waist, supporting and comforting him.

“Sorry? You don’t have to be sorry,” I promised. “You freed me, Jade. I needed this. I’m glad he did this. He needs to realize that I don’t belong to him anymore. I’m not his fucking property. He wanted Jeremy and Jeremy is what he got. I’m sick of not getting what I want, Jade. I’m sick of giving up what I want so he can have what he wants. I’m going to get what I want this time. I don’t give a damn about him anymore, all right?”

Jade leaned back in my arms, studying my face seriously. “What do you want, Adam? What is it you want so badly?” he asked boldly, a flicker of his grin playing at his lips.

I hugged him to me briefly and let go, forcing the suggestions whipping through my mind away, down below my level of conscious thought.

“I want to put clothes on,” I said, avoiding the question with an answer. “Glistening is not as easy as it may look. Even the pros need a break from time to time.”

“Oh, and you’re definitely a pro,” he laughed, shoving me out of the bathroom.

 

Jade took 45 minutes to get ready. The shower ran for eight minutes, the hair dryer for twice that. The rest of the time was obviously spent well, because the creature that emerged was breathtaking. “I straightened my hair again,” he said nervously. “What do you think?”

“Are you wearing eyeliner?” I asked incredulously. Makeup was a dangerously Davey course of action.

“I- um, yeah. Why, did I fuck it up?”

I winced. “No, it looks really good, I was just… um… wow. That’s all. I saw you and just… wow.”

Jade’s face flushed and he carefully studied my jeans and t-shirt. “You aren’t very glam,” he observed.

“Is that a problem?” I asked defensively, suppressing a groan at the thought of a Davey-esque shopping trip. Davey was forever trying to make me ‘dress better’, when I didn’t think there was a thing wrong with how I dressed in the first place.

“No, it’s a good thing,” Jade said immediately. “I like that in a guy, that he’s not secretly a woman. You actually seem like- a man.”

“Says the twig in eyeliner,” I teased. “You’re all dressed up- after that whole production, we ought to do something. You look too good to just mope around with me all day.”

“Do what?” he asked, hiding his smile. “Go after Davey?”

“God no,” I said immediately. Jade was what I wanted, not Davey. I’d had Davey. He wasn’t as special as I’d thought he was. “I meant something fun.”

Jade’s eyes flashed. “I want to play.”

“Play what? Music? A game?”

Jade grabbed my hand and tugged. “Outside.”

 

Twenty minutes later, I was stuck in a tree.

I was not entirely sure how I had gotten there, but I had my suspicions.

I had not climbed a tree since grade school, and apparently for good reason: as you grow old, you grow bigger. Fewer branches will hold you and fewer openings are large around to allow you passage. But you have also grown strong enough that you are cocky, and willing to brag about how fast you can probably scale such things as trees to your companion. He will, of course, know better, but be willing to see you fail. He will laugh very hard at your expense, and even encourage you to try a tree that, even from the ground, looks rather precarious.

If you get stuck, he will lay on his back in the grass and laugh until he cries.

I suspect that I may have been lured in by this age-old trick.

“Help me!” I pleaded miserably.

“You’re a big boy, remember?” Jade laughed. “You kicked that tree’s ass on the way up. That tree thinks you’re fucking Chuck Norris! How hard could it be to get down?”

“Get up here and find out!”

“I’m afraid of heights,” he said imploringly, batting his eyelashes.

“I don’t care!” I yelped. “You have to do something about this! I’m stuck!”

Jade covered his mouth to suppress his giggle.

“It’s not funny!” I wailed, reminding myself very much of Davey.

“Well, I’ll call the fire department if you like,” Jade offered. “How good are you at pretending to be a cat?”

I scowled fiercely and wound my arms more tightly around the branch I was clinging to. “You are not helping,” I informed him.

“I could leave, if that would be better,” Jade grinned innocently, as if he were genuinely trying to help.

I shot him a particularly panicked look and he stood up, sighing. “Okay, fine,” he said grudgingly, crossing over to the trunk of my nemesis. He blinked up at my position.

My foot was wedged at an awkwardly painful angle between two skinny branches, at their bases where it was unlikely they would bend. Every time I moved, my ankle seemed to twist further. There were only dead or weak branches around me and the one I was clinging to was the only one that looked safe. Without my foot, I could not swing down and find stable footing that would allow me to climb down. But I wasn’t willing to let balance, let go, and work my foot out with my hands, and every time I tried to pull it loose my ankle seared with pain. I couldn’t damage that foot, I needed it for the bass drum- all in all, I was useless.

“This is worse than it looked from back there. You didn’t say your foot was stuck,” Jade accused.

“I felt pathetic enough,” I announced, “without informing you I’d managed to compromise the sanctity of my foot.”

“Are you embarrassed?” Jade asked curiously, smiling up at me.

“Yes! I’ve humiliated myself in front of my very attractive bandmate and I can’t even walk it off because it’s not like I tripped, oh no, instead I’m STUCK in a goddamn TREE…” I stopped myself from continuing as I felt my ears begin to burn.

Jade, however, looked delighted. “You’ve just called me very attractive,” he repeated, sounding very satisfied with himself. I blushed harder. “You weren’t just sucking up so I’d help you down, were you?”

“I’m not saying.”

“Well, I’m not going to help you unless you’re sincere.”

“I’m sincere, I’m sincere!” I yelped, trying hard not to look down. The branch I was on was beginning to grown.

“Prove it.”

I took a deep breath and shut my eyes as tightly as I could. “I stopped breathing when you walked into that conference room, Jade. I thought you were the most beautiful man I’d ever laid eyes on. My heart beat faster and my words melt away every time I look at you. I can’t think, I get light-headed, and I can’t meet your eyes or my mind will go blank. I feel like a criminal for the thoughts in my head every time your hand brushes my arm. I wish I were lying but I can’t, I can’t lie about this because this is real, this is life, this is huge and I’m not strong enough to hold it back much longer. All my life I’ve been hiding from the world and lying about what I want and I- I don’t want to do that anymore. Not with you.”

I heard a rustle of leaves and opened my eyes. Jade was perched on a branch just above me.

“I believe you.”

“Aren’t you afraid of heights?” I croaked weakly, face on fire. I couldn’t believe all the things I’d just said.

Jade grinned. “I may have said that,” he admitted gently. “Do you really mean all that, Ad?”

“Yes,” I said miserably, my branch creaking ominously.

“Then the moment we get out of this tree, I am going to-”

Jade was interrupted by a horrible crack. The branch I was clinging to lurched and all the color drained from Jade’s face.

“Shit, Adam, we gotta get you down from there,” he said quickly.

“Finish your sentence,” I demanded. My head was in a fog. All thoughts of horrible and painful death had fled from my mind; all that remained was the look on his face and what he had nearly said. I had to know what he’d been about to say.

“You have to get to another branch, Adam,” he ordered, panic rising in his voice. A dull crunch and another lurch snapped me out of my daze.

I looked around wildly, daring to stretch out one arm and flailing for another branch. “I can’t,” I whimpered. My fingers barely grazed the closest branch.

“Then you have to pull your foot loose,” Jade said briskly. “I don’t want you to-”

CRACK.

  
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. All publicly recognizable characters and settings are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No money is being made from this work. No copyright infringement is intended.

This story archived at <http://www.afislash.com/viewstory.php?sid=3345>  



	6. The Shamed

When I opened my eyes, the world had gone white. There was a stabbing pain in my side and my throat burned. I brought my hand to my nose tentatively. There was a tube in it and when my fingers brushed it, my throat burned worse.

I coughed and closed my eyes.

The next time I opened them, the lights were dimmer and the tube was gone. I tried to push myself into a sitting position but my body protested fiercely.

A moment later, Jade’s face swam into sight. “Hey, you can’t sit up yet,” and said softly.

“”Morning, beautiful,” I murmured groggily. He grinned, face turning red.

“That’s just the painkillers talking,” he said gently, pulling down my sheet and laying a hand on my side. “You cracked too ribs and sprained your ankle. You might have strained some vertebrae, so the doctors want you to take it easy for a few weeks.”

“How long do I have to stay here?”

“We can have you home by tomorrow,” he promised me.

“Don’t leave me,” I whispered, and let my eyes fall closed.

“Never,” his voice echoed in my head. Whether I imagined it or not, I still don’t know.

 

The next time I was fully cognizant, I was lying in a bed that smelled like Jade. I snuggled deeper into his scent, sinking into the pillow and sighing happily. This one moment, safe and warm in what I could pretend were his arms, made the fire in my side and ache in my ankle completely worth it.

I opened my eyes, happier than I’d been in as long as I could remember, and expected to see Jade.

Instead, before me was the stringy blond mess I dully registered to be my nemesis, the loathed Jeremy, leering over me.

“Good, you’re awake,” he murmured silkily. “Listen to me, Carson, and don’t you dare forget a word I say. This was a real clever stunt, making Davey worry about you like no one else existed and getting yourself all tragically wounded… but don’t think I don’t see what you’re trying to do. You’re trying to steal his sweet little ass from me- well, that’s not going to happen. You had your chance and he’s my meal ticket now. If you don’t keep your distance, something a hell of a lot worse than a tree-climbing accident is gonna land you in the hospital next time.”

“I could snap your neck with one hand,” I growled. Jeremy paled considerably, especially since I was immobilized with fractured ribs.

“I- I’ll-” Jeremy stammered.

“No, buddy, you won’t. You make one move towards me or my friends, you try to break Davey’s heart, and I’ll be at the foot of your bed with a baseball bat at the dead of night before you know what hit you,” I informed him calmly. He looked like he was about to throw up.

Just in time for our threats to end, Davey bounced into the room. Seeing that I was awake, he threw himself onto the bed and wrapped his arms around me as gently as possible. “Oh, Addy,” he squealed. “We were all so worried about you! I don’t think Jade’s slept since it happened. I’m so glad you’re awake, I was absolutely making myself sick I was so scared…”

Jeremy beamed at me shakily, his smile dripping with slime. “I was just telling him that exact thing, babe. C’mon now, you’ll hurt him more if you keep putting pressure on his ribs like that.”

I was relieved when Davey crawled off the bed, still chattering excitedly. Unexpected affection for him had swept me dangerously, and all I really wanted anymore was Jade lying next to me.

I muttered something about being tired, and Davey and Jeremy left immediately. Jeremy seemed more than glad to leave any space that I occupied, and Davey just wanted me to be well again. They hadn’t been out of the room two minutes when Jade slipped in.

“You aren’t really tired,” he accused quietly, closing the door behind him.

“All the time I’ve been awake, all I’ve been thinking about is how nice it would be if I weren’t laying in your bed without you,” I said hoarsely.

Jade smiled, looking surprised, and sat next to me. “You’ve been off the morphine for nearly twelve hours now- are these words from your heart?”

I laughed. “You always assume the worst,” I scolded him. “Would it be so unbelievable that I, completely sound of mind and largely sound of body, would take an interest in a man such as yourself and act on it?”

“No,” he said, smirking. “Maybe I’m trying to reject you without hurting your feelings.”

I struggled into a sitting position. Jade pushed me back down by my shoulders. “You’ll strain your ribs,” he said softly, not moving, my breath caught in my throat and I stared up into his big brown eyes.

“So you’re really just looking out for me?” I breathed. “You want what’s best for me?”

“I want a lot more than that,” Jade squeaked, sitting back quickly, looking guilty.

“God, I hoped you’d say that,” I heard myself say, and in one fluid movement Jade’s lips were on mine, my fingers were tangled in his hair, and one hand was on his back and his fingers were fluttering helplessly over my body.

When he pulled away breathless, Jade whimpered, “I don’t want to hurt you, your ribs-”

“I don’t give a damn about my ribs,” I moaned, reaching for his waist and pulling. “I want you, and I want you right now.”

Jade made a small sound in the back of his throat but kissed my cheek resolutely. “It is not fair to say things like that,” he told me, “when you are laying prone in my bed but have fractured ribs. You could have said it yesterday, you know, and instead of getting yourself stuck in a stupid tree we could have had the great sex that all things Jade entail-”

I silenced him with a kiss, short because it burned in my side when I stretched my neck, sweet because he wanted me just as badly as I wanted him. I could tell by the look in his eyes and where he was pressed against my leg that he didn’t mind being interrupted.

“It doesn’t hurt at all when you kiss me,” I said softly.

Jade raised his eyebrows and grinned. “You know,” he said playfully, “it’d be a lot easier to nurse you back to health if we got your bothersome shirt out of the way…”

“Jeremy and Davey are in the living room,” I pointed out.

“Better get rid of mine, too, then,” Jade laughed, pulling his shirt over his head. I inhaled sharply at the sight of his smooth, taut stomach and the letters inked into his skin, his soft firm pecs and the faint shadow of his abs.

He giggled, easing the hem of my own t-shirt up over my ribs, trailing kisses after it. “Oh, wow,” he breathed, staring hungrily at my body. “Now this is a sight to breathe harder at.”

A sleepy smile spread across my face. “I’d heal faster if you keep doing that,” I sighed.

“You mean this?” he asked coyly, kissing his way slowly down my stomach.

My breath caught in my throat. I knew the word for what I felt right now. It was more than happy, above and beyond content, and so much more than lust- I wouldn’t say it yet, wouldn’t speak it for many months yet, but deep in my heart I knew its name.

The word for the warm feeling washing through my body as it never had before was love.

  
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. All publicly recognizable characters and settings are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No money is being made from this work. No copyright infringement is intended.

This story archived at <http://www.afislash.com/viewstory.php?sid=3345>  



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